


A Demon on my Shoulder...

by Sanshal



Series: Demon! Dean [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curses, Demon Dean, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Demon Dean, deaging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:52:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary - Sam knew he was taking a huge risk- agreeing to this spell meant he would either risk losing everything or he would- for once- be able to save Dean. And given Dean was sporting black eyes-literally- these days; there was a good chance things wouldn’t go according to plan.</p><p>But then again, Sam wasn’t a Winchester for nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Demon on my Shoulder...

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Demon!Dean ( But don’t worry; he’ll have (at least a few) redeeming characteristics and I don’t think I could write him as evil evil you know?
> 
> A/N - S-10 speculation. I’m NOT putting this in warnings because obviously the show is not proceeding like my fic.  
> \----------------------------------------

**_Title: A Demon on my Shoulder... _ **   
**Earlier Parts:[1](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/24428.html)\- [2](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/24704.html)\- [3](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/24986.html)\- [4](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/25618.html)\- [5](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/26586.html)\- [6](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/28955.html)\- [7](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/29216.html)**

_**\---**  _

 

  
The soul in front of him crumpled in a heap as he withdrew his blade; his entire hand, elbow downwards, dripping in the poor SOB’s blood. Dean glanced at his bloody hands and back at the gurgling pile of flesh impassively; this one would need a few hours to repair itself before he could have another session. Stalking to the closed door, he slammed it open, grinning when the two medium-level demons acting as wardens flinched.  
“Next!”

His roar echoed through Hell and Dean smiled in satisfaction at the way it fell silent for a moment in response before the wailing began anew.

The wardens dragged in another snivelling, pathetic creature and Dean headed to the table on the side to wipe the Blade clean: _You always take care of your weapons, Boy!_ Dean shook his head as he remembered John Winchester’s oft-repeated phrase and wondered how the great hunter would feel if he saw how useful those words were even now.

He wondered if his Dad would have still worried about Sammy- _good, innocent, PURE Sammy_ if he knew what Dean would become and gnashed his teeth as his brain latched on to ‘Sammy’ again. In frustration, he simply slashed the blade in one long arc; chest heaving as the strung up soul split into two clean halves; already dead.

“Damn it!”

He slammed the door back open, growling out a ‘Next!’ before stalking back in.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your fervour, Squirrel,” Crowley began.

Dean didn’t exactly jump at the sudden arrival, but it was close.

“But you’re working your way through my stock faster than it can be replenished.”

“Souls don’t leave once I’m done with them.” Dean growled.

“No, but they need to repair themselves before you can play with them, ay?”

 _He hated it w_ _hen the demon was right._ “What d’you want, Crowley?”

“Your phone’s been ringing off the hook. Just thought you might be interested,” The demon King answered, tossing the black plastic object in question at him before fluttering off.

Focus suddenly shifted, Dean grabbed at the phone, preparing to head up to receive a proper connection. _Hell could really do with mobile network._

“Sir, you asked for another one,” One of the duo posted outside his door spoke up, hauling a bedraggled looking male.

Dean shook his head, “Maybe some other time,”

 

 

 

The phone came to life as soon as he appeared on Earth, the little black box chirping and beeping happily as it announced the number of missed calls and messages it had received. Dean dialled back promptly.

“Hello?”

“Mister Winchester?” A woman’s hysterical voice came through the speaker, “Oh thank goodness you called! We’ve been trying to reach you for-”

“What’s wrong with Sam?” He cut in mid tirade.

“He didn’t stop crying since you drove off two days ago- he hasn’t eaten, barely sleeps and keeps asking for you-”

Dean closed his eyes- he’d known the split would be difficult on him but he’d never expected Sammy to take it so hard- _weren’t kids supposed to have short memory spans???_

“Where are you?” He interrupted again.

No sooner was the answer out of her mouth than Dean was appearing outside the little suburban house. He took in the well maintained yard and the little slide that had been set up in one corner in anticipation of Sam’s arrival and shook his head: Sammy could have had it good with this couple who so obviously adored him. Jogging up the steps he rapped sharply on the door, smiling when the woman stared at him in shock.  
“How’d you get here so fast?”

“I have my ways,” Dean answered, eyes flashing black as he strode past her to where he could hear his brother’s exhausted sobs. ( _And maybe it was a sign of how harried she was that she didn’t even flinch...)_

Sam was curled on the bed, facing away from them when Dean entered; his prospective new ‘dad’ on the floor next to about two dozen toys as he tried to mollify the heart-broken little boy.

“Sammy?” Dean called softly, his voice gravel rough at the realization of how obviously his little brother was missing him.

_And Sammy, who had resolutely refused to turn around to face his new parents, was flinging off the comforter he had crawled under to throw himself into the demon’s arms._

“Where’d you go?” He mumbled between sniffles as he clung to his big brother with all the might in his tiny body.

“Thought you’d be happier here, Kiddo,” Dean answered, feeling the raw agony in his own chest lessen as he held the little body.

“Wantchu!” The boy whispered, burrowing as close as he could.

“I-...uh... I know it’s not my place,” The woman spoke up, “But he obviously needs you, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean nodded, feeling a lump in his throat as he took in the tear-streaked faces of the couple who’d wanted so badly to be the home Sam loved and grew up in; “Thank you... and I’m sorry,”

 

** Epilogue  **

  
“Guess it’s just us again, Kiddo,” Dean announced as they appeared in the bunker.

Sammy’s only response was to smile sleepily and snuggle closer. Dean tucked him in- _it was too late to demand the kid take a bath or clean his teeth_ \- and curled around the small cocoon, relaxing as he let himself empty his mind of everything but the steady sound of Sam’s breathing. He hadn’t known demons could fall asleep but when he awoke, it was next to a full grown Sam.

“Woah!”

Sam’s eyes flew open at his voice, hands reaching for a weapon not present before he realized it was only Dean.

“What the hell?!”

“It was a spell,” The younger Winchester admitted- _of course the little shit knew what he was talking about_ , hands out like he intended to halt Dean.

“I gathered that, Captain Obvious!” Dean snapped back.

“I could turn you back human if you gave up the blade to stay with me...” He continued. “I had to take the chance, Dean!”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to harness his demonic power to test the veracity of that statement; opening them again when he found that the spell had indeed worked. “What-”he licked his lips hesitantly, unsure if he actually wanted an answer, “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t?”

Sam shrugged, eyes flicking away as he answered, “I would’ve stayed a kid.”

“For how long?” _These kinds of spell came with specific time-limits..._

“What date is it today?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the evasion, “Twenty- seventh. _Why_?”

“Three more days then,” His voice when Sam answered, was soft.

“And then you’d have died. Is that what you’re trying to hide from me?”

The blush answered Dean well enough. “Damn it, Sammy! You bet your life on the off chance that _demon-me_ would stick by you?!”

Sam shrugged; eyes defiant.

“What the hell were you even thinking, huh? Trusting a demon with a little kid?!”

“I didn’t,”

“What d’ya mean you didn’t?!”

“I didn’t leave a little kid with a demon, Dean.”

“You didn’t?” Dean gasped disbelievingly.

“I didn’t leave a little kid with a demon,” Sam repeated, looking right in his eyes as he answered, “ _I left him with his big brother._ ”

 

**___ж‡ж___**

  
**The End.**


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